8of27The Embarcadero Freeway stubs at Broadway and Howard Street shown on Nov. 2, 1972, were on and off ramps that had never been completed.Photo: Joe Rosenthal / The Chronicle 1972

9of27Chinatown residents and workers protest the demolition of the Embarcadero Freeway in an April 16, 1990, Chronicle article.Photo: The Chronicle 1990

10of27Chinatown residents and workers attend an April 16, 1990, Board of Supervisors meeting on the demolition of the Embarcadero Freeway. The loss of the freeway was hurting businesses in North Beach, Chinatown and Fisherman’s Wharf.Photo: Eric Luse / The Chronicle 1990

11of27Neighborhood groups show their support on Dec. 17, 1990, for tearing down the Embarcadero Freeway.Photo: Jerry Telfer / The Chronicle 1990

12of27Demonstrators rally on Dec. 17, 1990, to show their support for tearing down the Embarcadero Freeway.Photo: Jerry Telfer / The Chronicle 1990

13of27Chinatown residents and workers attend a Board of Supervisors meeting on April 16, 1990, on the demolition of the Embarcadero Freeway.Photo: Eric Luse / The Chronicle 1990

14of27The Board of Supervisors vote 6-5 on April 16, 1990, in favor of razing the freeway.Photo: The Chronicle 1990

21of27A photographer used the back of the Embarcadero Freeway demolition ceremony program for notes on Feb. 27, 1991, then jammed it into the negative envelope to be found 28 years later.Photo: The Chronicle

24of27Crews destroy an off-ramp from the Bay Bridge to the Embarcadero Freeway on Feb. 8, 1993.Photo: Vincent Maggiora / The Chronicle 1993

25of27Demolition of the Embarcadero Freeway off-ramp from the Bay Bridge on Feb. 8, 1993.Photo: Vincent Maggiora / The Chronicle 1993

26of27Demolition of the Embarcadero Freeway off-ramp from the Bay Bridge on Feb. 8, 1993.Photo: Vincent Maggiora / The Chronicle 1993

27of27Demolition of the Embarcadero Freeway off-ramp from the Bay Bridge on Feb. 8, 1993.Photo: Vincent Maggiora / The Chronicle 1993

Sixty years ago this week, officials opened the Embarcadero Freeway. While never beloved — The Chronicle’s editorial board called for the “foolish freeway” to be demolished only six months in — it would take a 6.9-magnitude earthquake, and a concerted civic effort, to finally seal its fate.

I’d previously written about the Embarcadero Freeway, but when I found photos of the damage and eventual demolition of the freeway in The Chronicle’s archive, some not seen in more than 25 years, it was time to look back at the battle over tearing it down.

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Several days after the 1989 Loma Prieta earthquake closed the highway, L. Thomas Tobin, the executive director of the California Seismic Safety Commission, inspected the freeway himself. There were deep diagonal cracks in half of the pillars just below the structure’s second deck, Tobin told state legislators. Police officers ordered him not to stand underneath the road.

“If the quake had continued for another five seconds, we think the Embarcadero Freeway would have failed,” said Ronald Mayes, a bridge engineering expert.

Those who wanted to get rid of the eyesore saw an opportunity. But neighborhood activists and business owners from Chinatown, North Beach and Fisherman’s Wharf worried that without a quick fix to the freeway, their businesses would be in peril.

Leading the charge was Rose Pak, the forceful Chinatown community leader. She told a Board of Supervisors meeting that business in Chinatown “had plummeted as much as 70 percent” in the four weeks since the quake.

Mayor Art Agnos stayed neutral at first, until he warmed to a plan to replace the freeway with a sunken roadway, a project that would take an estimated four years to complete.

Business groups were alarmed — they didn’t want to wait that long. Pak “issued the call to Chinatown’s 950 businesses to close their doors between the hours of 1:30 and 4:30” to attend the Board of Supervisors meeting discussing the plan.

“Merchants ... gathered en masse in City Hall in a show of force,” Marc Sandalow reported. “The crowd overflowed the supervisors’ chambers and spilled into nearby hallways and the City Hall rotunda.”

It wasn’t enough — the Board of Supervisors voted 6-5 to demolish the freeway, if federal funds could not be found for its replacement.

It wasn’t long before the plan shifted to just getting the damaged ghost highway down as fast as possible — and even some business groups started to agree. The demolition crews began setting up in early 1991.

The last days of the Embarcadero Freeway “served as a giant beer garden with a spectacular view,” Sandalow wrote in late January 1991. Drawn by the wonderful views and easily scalable fence, the empty freeway became a draw for barbecues and potluck dinners, a makeshift roller-skating track, a refuge for the homeless and a drinking spot for all types.

“Empty 12-packs and broken bottles line the shoulders, where millions of motorists once drove by,” Sandalow wrote. “The variety ... from black-and-white generic beer to pricey imports — suggests a cross-section of visitors.”

The demolition kickoff was a big party. A group of Ethel Merman look-alikes sang a version of “Shake, Rattle and Roll,” presumably in honor of the earthquake. A Dixieland band wearing hard hats performed underneath the structure. Commemorative posters marking the freeway’s demolition were sold for $10.

Bill Van Niekerken is the Library Director of the San Francisco Chronicle. He does research for reporters and editors and manages the photos, negatives and text archives. He has a weekly column “From the Archive”, that focuses on photo coverage of historic events. For this column Bill scans and publishes 20-30 images from photos and negatives that haven’t been seen in many years.

Bill started working at the Mercury News in 1980, when nothing in news libraries was digital. Research was done using paper clippings, and cameras shot film. He moved to the Chronicle in 1985, just as the library was beginning their digital text archive.